


B is for Bodyguard

by scarletmanuka



Series: V/V Alphabet Challenge [2]
Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-28 08:33:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7632691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletmanuka/pseuds/scarletmanuka





	B is for Bodyguard

The crowd buzzed with a festival atmosphere but Vimes found it difficult to relax. It had been a history making occasion having the Low King visit Ankh-Morpork to officially open the Koom Valley Exhibit at the museum. Being the optimistic and positive person he naturally was, Vimes had wondered just when the first stone would be thrown. A crowd could so easily turn into a mob in this city, and along with flags and confetti, the citizens generally carried a good throwing rock or over-ripe tomato in their handbags for emergencies. 

But the ceremony had gone off without a hitch, and the crowd was beginning to disperse from in front of the stage. Vetinari and the Low King stood to one side of the stage, talking quietly as they waited for their carriage to arrive. There was no way a horse would make it through this throng, even one of the specially trained mounts that pulled the Patrician’s carriage. Vimes had called in extra Watchmen and had the area completely surrounded to deter any tomato throwers who might have tried to take advantage of the extra height that the stage offered. 

Although all seemed well, Vimes’ eyes continued to scan the diminishing crowd and the buildings around them. He couldn’t put his finger on what exactly it was, but something didn’t feel right. His copper’s sense was tingling. He noticed his men doing the same thing and he felt a momentary surge of pride. It hadn’t been all that long ago in the grand scheme of things that it had just been Fred, Nobby, and himself avoiding as much trouble as possible. But that had all changed now and his watchmen actively looked to see where the trouble was and how they could stop it. The Watch was universally hated by the criminal elements of the city and that told Vimes that they were doing a good job. 

A head bobbed above the crowd and Vimes watched as Carrot made his way towards the stage. The barrier of Watchmen parted, allowing their captain through, and then seamlessly merged back to their former positions. 

“Just a few more minutes and the horses will be able to come though, sir,” Carrot reported. 

Vimes nodded, casting his eye over to where Vetinari and Rhysson were still talking. It seemed that the Patrician was also picking up on the vibe that something wasn’t quite right. Although his attention appeared to be focussed solely on the Low KIng, his eyes continually darted about, every now and then making contact with Vimes’. 

He heard the sound of hooves on cobbles and looked over to see the remains of the crowd parting for the black Patrician’s carriage. He began to move across the stage when a glint from the roof of a nearby building caught his eye. His head whipped around and he saw the crossbow being aimed. 

“Archer!” he cried, springing across the stage and throwing himself in front of the Patrician and Low King. He heard the whistle of the bolt as he crashed into the two bodies, and felt a jolt of pain in his right shoulder. There was a flurry of movement as the Watchmen moved to form a protective ring around the two men and dwarf laying in a heap on the stage. He could hear Carrot barking orders to get someone on the roof and to cover the exits. There was a groan and he was a little surprised to discover it had come from him.

“Let us up, Sir Samuel,” Vetinari said from his position, pinned beneath Vimes. “I believe the immediate danger has passed.”

For once deciding to follow orders, he pushed himself to one side, allowing the the Patrician and Low King to move. 

“Promise you won’t arrest me for laying hands on the king again?” he muttered to Rhysson.

The dwarf laughed. “Considering you have a habit of saving my life, I think we can let it slide.”

Under Vetinari’s instructions, the Commander was helped into the carriage and Buggy was sent to fetch Igor and bring him to the palace. Once the carriage was moving, Vimes felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Lean forward, I need to see what the extent of your injuries are,” Vetinari told him.

Sam grunted as he did as he was told, and a moment later he felt nimble fingers undoing the clasps of his armour. Rhysson took the other side and between the two of them they managed to lift the breastplate from Vimes. He gasped as he felt something pulled from his back, and soon Vetinari was tossing the armour onto the seat opposite them. The crossbow bolt was sticking out of the back of the armour.

“It looks like your breastplate did its job splendidly,” the assassin noted as he lifted the shirt to prod at Vimes’ back. “It only just pierced the skin. It’s hardly bleeding at all, but you’ll have a nasty bruise.” He pulled the shirt back down and then sat, tapping against his lip and looking thoughtful.

“Oh, don't you bloody dare!” Vimes growled. 

“Dare what?” the Low King asked, looking confused.

“I know that look. It’s the face he gets when he’s trying to figure out what other bloody title or reward he can give me for saving his damn life.” He glared at the Patrician. “You can just stop right there.”

“Most people would be pleased to be rewarded,” the King said in surprise.

“Well not me! I was just doing my job.”

“But Sir Samuel, this time you went above and beyond. You not only saved my life but the life of the Low King,” Vetinari said innocently. “Surely that needs to be rewarded.”

“No! I don’t need anything else, my list of titles is long enough,  _ no thanks to you _ . If you insist on dumping something else on me, I’ll bloody well stop saving your life.”

There was just the hint of a smile on the Patrician’s lips. “Very well, Commander. Since you seem to enjoy being my bodyguard so much, I shall give you that as a reward. Please feel free to continue to save my life.”

The carriage rattled loudly over some loose cobbles and so the phrase “Insufferable git” was lost over the din. The way the Patrician broke into a grin though told Vimes that he had heard it.

  
  



End file.
